


Bed Mates

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Drunkenness, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt did not come to college to babysit someone when they’re drunk, even if Blaine is ridiculously endearing when he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Mates

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr ask box prompt (therefore, originally untitled).
> 
> Anonymous asked: college roommates!klaine

“ _Kurt_.”

Kurt groans, pulling his comforter up and over his head and turning his face into his pillow. It’s late, and he’d just been on the precipice of sleep after staying up too late working on a paper—never mind that it’s a Friday night and there were better things he could have been doing. Kurt likes to get his work out of the way and not stress out over assignments at 10pm on Sunday night (like  _some people_  he knows).

“ _Kurt_.”

This time, when his name is hissed, his shoulder is also shaken in insistent, short jerks. Kurt pulls the comforter away from his face quickly, eyes snapping reluctantly open and taking a moment to focus in on Blaine’s hovering face in the dark.

“What?” He bites, in a whisper, his voice slicing through the night. But Blaine doesn’t look perturbed, his face breaking into a goofy grin as he rests his chin on Kurt’s mattress.

“ _Hi_ ,” Blaine giggles, eyes squinting as he smiles, and Kurt groans, turning his head back into his pillow. 

“Go to bed, Blaine.”

“No,” Blaine whines, prodding Kurt in the ribs until he squirms.

“Then  _leave me alone_.”

He squints his eye and can see Blaine pouting at him, even in the darkness. He waits, but Blaine doesn’t budge, staring at him with eyebrows drawn and eyes big and shining.

“You’re drunk,” Kurt whispers, accusingly, and Blaine shakes his head—and then tips slightly to the right, arm flailing as he tries to find his balance.

“ _No_ ,” he insists, petulantly, blinking quickly before settling his cheek against Kurt’s sheet again. “Maybe.” He blinks again, and then laughs. “I’m totally drunk.”

“Which is why you should go to bed and let me sleep,” Kurt says, words carefully enunciated as if he’s talking to a child. Blaine sighs, moving to his feet in a wobbly fashion. Kurt gives a small nod, satisfied, and then turns to face the wall, pulling his comforter up to his shoulder. He did not come to college to babysit someone when they’re drunk, even if Blaine is ridiculously endearing when he is. Kurt does strain a bit with his hear, just in case Blaine falls or hurts himself or does something equally stupid in his drunken state.

He doesn’t expect his bed to dip as Blaine tries to lay beside him.

Kurt turns abruptly, hissing a, “ _what are you doing?_ ” that makes Blaine pause.

“Going to bed.” Blaine shuffles a little closer and then flops onto his side, pressed up close to Kurt in the tiny twin bed that’s a staple for dorm rooms.

“This is  _my_  bed, and I’m pretty sure you’re still wearing your shoes!”

“Stop being so loud,” Blaine complains, burying the side of his face in  _Kurt’s_  pillow. “And I am not, that’s like, a rule.  _Don’t pass out with your shoes on, and don’t leave the house till the booze gone_ —I don’t think the booze was gone, Kurt, I broke a rule,” Blaine giggles, leaning closer and bumping his forehead against Kurt’s cheek. Kurt closes his eyes, counts to ten, and reminds himself to breathe and not to think about how fast his heart or beating or the smell of Blaine’s hair gel (which his pillow is now going to smell like, oh  _god_ ).

“Blaine—”

“The other rules are stupid, though, I mean, everyone knows two condoms is  _stupid_ , I mean, it’s  _stupid_  and it’s a waste of condoms and—”

Kurt slaps his hand over Blaine’s mouth.

“Please stop saying condoms.”

Blaine tries to talk against his hand, so Kurt sighs and moves it with a reluctant, “what?”

“But you just said it.”

“Go to bed, Blaine.” Kurt pauses. “In your  _own_  bed.”

“But I like it here.” Blaine wiggles around until he’s working his way under the covers and Kurt freezes as their legs brush—he didn’t even realize Blaine had taken off his pants and  _oh god_ , he’s going to pass out. “You’re so warm and cozy.” Blaine drapes his arm lazily over Kurt’s waist.

“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice comes out strangled and high, mainly due to the fact that Blaine chooses that moment to nuzzle against Kurt’s neck.

“You are the best, nicest, cuddliest, warmest, best, sexiest roommate ever,” Blaine sighs, sleepily, and Kurt freezes again.

_Sexiest?_

“Sexiest?” He asks, before he can stop himself, but Blaine just hums in agreement. That’s… New.

“So sexy,” Blaine says around a yawn, slotting their knees together. “Night, sexy.”

Kurt blinks up at the dark ceiling, mouth hanging open slightly, and unsure what to do with his ridiculously attractive, and ridiculously drunk, roommate suddenly asleep and wrapped around him like a sloth.

“…goodnight, Blaine.”

One night couldn’t hurt, right?


End file.
